The Staceys @ The Oscars

Best Dressed Stacey goes to Anne Hathaway, who looked like a beautiful mermaid. From Spain.

Worst dressed Stacey is awarded to Reese Witherspoon.
It looks like her chiffon monstrosity was coloured with-a-spoon. I am not the biggest fan of electric blue, and the weird strap things look like she has landed on the stage straight from her paragliding lesson.
Then there is the concealed sequinney detail, which is neither here nor there. Just......no, Reese.

Most boring Stacey: it's yours Angelina.
Come on, AJ. We know you are a pillar of society, an example to A-Z listers great and small, and that you probably didn't have time to take calls from designers offering you their exquisite creations because you were busy being busty barmaid to Knox and Vivienne whilst entertaining your other four dependants and the squirrels and deer....but that dress? It's so boring! Elegant, but boring. Even a diamond necklace would have spruced it up a bit, that you could have got for free.

Button looks nice though.

Cutest Stacey is for the little slum puppies from Slumdog Millionaire!
Awwww.

Goody gum drops

The Victorian Freak Show is not a thing of the past, it seems.

People are obsessed with freaky things: people's pains, plights and predicaments will always make the front page and schadenfreude is the only German thing British people love.

But has Jade Goody crossed the line into sickeningly controversial territory? Or has the British public? If the line is a literal one at the end of a contract then Jade has not only crossed the line with a ballpoint pen (don't worry, Julie), but has indeed signed, sealed and delivered her soul to OK! magazine. "World exclusive! Jade's first bald photos!" Excuse me, but I would feel a little ashamed forking over approximately £2.50 at the till for this.

Despite writing this, I am not sure how I feel about this entire I've Got Cancer And I'm Milking Every Penny From It saga. I knew someone who died from cancer, and the last thing I can imagine ever happening at that time would be her husband agreeing to a melancholia-themed photoshoot complete with sad faces in an expensive outfit and describing his melancholia, complete with captions of where to buy the expensive outfit. Especially if he had just come out of prison. Jack Tweed should be keeping a low profile at the bedside of his fiance who has been given eight weeks to live, not galavanting to the OK! offices in London to cross another line for a hefty figure.

Degradation is not the word, it's just........................strange. Very, very, strange. The media-consumers have been stirred by this in different ways - some will think it is disgraceful that someone could publicise such a tragic disease and some will just weep with sorrow. I am sitting on the fence, looking at the weeping people and empathising with them, maybe welling up a little bit, but then the jostling, heckling crowd behind me turn my head the opposite way. I am torn! And I don't want to think about it too much, because it's weird.

The thing I don't like about it is, I guess, that it makes cancer seem a bit unimportant. That nothing is personal or traumatic enough not to sell to a magazine - "it's ok if you get it because look what I'm doing, I can appear in a pantomime and make a documentary and do interviews all at the same time, I'm being strong, I'm not letting it beat me." All well and good, Jade, but please don't belittle such an awful illness. Not everyone can make money from it. Not everyone even makes it.

So, please, Jade, turn the cameras off, shut the door, get married, be happy for as long as you can. Keep this one bit of your life precious. Because the British public will mourn you if you die in private or not.

No inspiration/not inspired

So, in today's news a 13 year old boy has become a father, and apparently someone in Berlin has been cured of HIV. Last month a woman had a litter of eight children in five minutes.
It seems everything that could have happened has now happened.

The grandfather of the child who's father will be in sixth form (or not) when she starts primary school said "I hope he will be a good dad."
Of course he won't! He didn't even know what financial means when he was asked how he would provide for his child! When the baby is crying for a rusk and the cupboard is bare, will little Alfie Patten look up from playing Mario Cart on the Wii? Well, probably - for enough time to look at Maisie Roxanne and mutter an obscenity then text his friend "Wuu2 am bord."

Apparently this has triggered a debate over 'broken Britain'. Britain is already FULLY broken, into tiny little pieces, that if played in a PowerPoint slideshow would incorporate figures of banks, golliwogs, unhappy faces walking out of a factory, and Gordon Brown dressed as a sinister Robin Hood carrying out his motto. The only good thing that has happened in the past few months is Peaches Geldof moving to America. As it is, they say rats are the first to leave a burning ship.